


left hand suzuki method

by PeppyBismilk



Series: burn one down [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bong Metaphors, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dimitri Has a Crush on Byleth, Explicit Language, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Little Spoon Sylvain, M/M, Marijuana, Minor Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Minor Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan, More Like Highleth, Party, Public Hand Jobs, Sexual Content, while stoned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22908190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppyBismilk/pseuds/PeppyBismilk
Summary: Felix quits his internship in a fiery blaze. Getting blazed with Sylvain helps him pick up the pieces.Now with gratuitously fluffy epilogue!
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: burn one down [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734724
Comments: 18
Kudos: 137
Collections: Felix Birthday Week 2020





	1. blaze it

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Felix Week, Day 7: Free Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Sylvain, on the edge of the next level.

Felix’s engineering internship might not have lasted long, but nobody could say it didn’t end with a bang.

“And you can catheterize your pisshole with your stupid incident reports for all I care!” 

He resisted the urge to knock over the ugly potted fern by the door and stormed out of the office, shoulders heaving, froth collecting in his mouth. 

Wind blasted his cheeks when he pushed the Garreg Mach Tower door open, but reality hit harder.

_ “Fuck.” _

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and seethed for a few more blocks before ducking into a Starbucks and pulling out his phone.

_ I need a ride. _

The screen went black and Sylvain’s stupid picture popped up with the incoming call notification.

“Why can’t you just text me back like a normal person?”

“Hello, Felix.” Sylvain’s heavy sigh through the speaker made Felix’s hair stand on end. “What happened?”

“I fucked up my co-op.”

Sylvain didn’t respond right away. Just when Felix was about to hang up on him, the asshole chuckled and said, “Well, I hope you gave Gilbert a piece of your mind first.”

“Called Rhea a cunt, too.” 

Someone gasped, and Felix glanced up to see a parent covering their toddler’s ears. Guilt dulled his anger but the whole mess hovered in his gut, acrid as the stench of burnt coffee in the air. 

“Damn,” Sylvain let the word roll off his tongue. “You burned all your bridges, didn’t you?”

“To a crisp.”

“Well, shit happens. I’m sure you can still pick up a few classes this semester.”

Sylvain had tried to sound cheerful, but they both knew only worthless courses were left. The engineering curriculum left no room for deviation, and missing a co-op meant the whole semester was a bust. He could attempt a co-op next semester, but then he’d miss his prerequisites for next year’s courses. There was always summer, but even in a big city like Fódlan, word got around. Who would hire him after that outburst?

“Why waste my time?” Felix pressed his fist to his forehead hard enough to leave a mark. He could try to go back to his part-time job at that shipping company, but it was boring as hell. 

“Look, you don’t have to decide anything now.” It was true, but it didn’t make Felix feel any better. “Why don’t we blow off some steam at Claude’s party tonight? It sounds like you need it.”

Coming within ten yards of Claude von Riegan’s place during a party guaranteed a contact high. Felix didn’t smoke, but he didn’t  _ not  _ smoke either. And today of all days, he could use it. “Fuck it,” he said (once he was sure the children were gone). “I’m in.”

Sylvain laughed in triumph. "I’ll be there in 20!” 

Felix didn’t need to see Sylvain to know he was borrowing a smile from the devil himself.

Three hours (and three drinks) later, Felix and Sylvain were walking to Claude's frat house. At least Felix assumed he was in a fraternity. The place bore all the signs: mismatched lawn furniture, dilapidated letters on the siding, and empty kegs on the curb... Claude and his friends never seemed to do anything around campus, but outside of club fencing, Felix didn't give a shit about college organizations, either.

It was hard to give a shit about much of anything right now. Day-drinking with Sylvain was more effective than Felix thought it would be. Downright pleasant, even. He wasn’t drunk or stumbling, but his outburst at work was just a dim memory in his beer-buzzed mind, and that was good enough for now. 

“Is it as much of a shithole as I remember?” Felix hadn’t been to a party at Claude’s since Sylvain dragged him to one last year. The entire house had been covered in a slick film that Felix only later learned was from a “foam party” the night before. He still didn’t know what that meant.

“Depends,” said Sylvain. “Is the stick in your ass still wedged all the way up through your nose?”

“Fuck you.” Felix rammed into Sylvain with his shoulder, but Sylvain was a tank. Felix was not. Even though he  _ wasn’t drunk  _ (seriously!), he lost his footing on uneven pavement and started to fall.

The impact never came. Sylvain scooped him up in his tanky arms and held him steady. He might have saved Felix from eating pavement, but his bright brown eyes were just as jarring. For seconds, they stared at each other as Felix’s heart pounded out a breakbeat in his chest. 

“You all right?” Sylvain asked. 

“I’m not drunk.” Felix wrestled out of his grip. Freedom cleared his senses, and he realized his mistake—the thrumming bass was coming from the party, not his heart. They were almost to Claude’s place.

“Didn’t say you were.”

Sylvain smirked at him and Felix looked away. That was why he’d stopped at three beers. One more would turn Sylvain into a tree begging to be climbed. Felix needed to give the alcohol time to settle or switch to weed. Maybe an edible.

Oh, right. He’d skipped dinner. No wonder Sylvain had looked like a tasty meal for a second there. Felix was definitely sober now, but just to be safe, he avoided eye contact the rest of the way up to the house. 

“Hey, glad you could make it!” Claude greeted Sylvain with a wide smile and some frat-looking handshake, then nodded to Felix. “Been a while.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Felix muttered, idly trying to fix his hair. A knot caught his fingers and he frowned. “We’re here to smoke your weed.”

“Right on,” said Claude. He ushered them inside where the party was in full swing. Music blared from an ancient sound system and students, some Felix recognized, some he didn’t, littered the room. “Make yourselves at home.”

Elbowing his way ahead of Sylvain (even though he had no idea where he was going), Felix pushed through a group of kids and followed his nose to the dankest corner of the house. To his surprise, he recognized everyone clustered on that filthy couch. 

“Professor!” came Sylvain’s voice from behind him. “Ladies! What a pleasant surprise, seeing your lovely faces here tonight.”

Anger (or something adjacent to it) sparked in Felix’s belly, but the shock of running into their old physics teaching assistant at an undergrad party kept it in check. Flanked by Annette and Mercedes and clutching a bong, Byleth looked up at them with lazy, heavy-lidded eyes. 

She was  _ baked. _

“I’m not your professor, Sylvain, just your TA.” 

“Well, you’re a vision as always.” Sylvain’s affected tone rankled and that high couldn’t come fast enough. “Enjoying the refreshments?”

“Oh, sorry to be a bong hog,” she chuckled. “Who wants next? Claude?”

Not realizing they’d been followed, Felix turned around to see Claude shaking his head. 

“No thanks, Teach, but Felix wants a hit. You should show him the ropes.”

“I know how to do it,” Felix snapped, snatching the bong from Byleth. “Who invited you, anyway?”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady, Felix.” Sylvain poked his ribs and Felix glared at him.

Byleth just grinned—she had never looked this goofy in class—and pointed to some other familiar figures across the room. “Dimitri.”

Felix rolled his eyes. Of course it was Dimitri. His massive, lingering crush on her was no secret. He was chatting with Dedue, but he glanced over his shoulder at the mention of his name. Ducking his head demurely, he waved at Byleth, then at Felix and Sylvain. 

“You wanna take a rip?” Byleth called to him.

The lighter misfired in Felix’s hands as he snorted out loud. Sylvain snickered, too. 

“He doesn’t—” Felix began. 

“Give it here.” Dimitri boomed the words with such authority that half the room jumped. 

Most of the people in the room were stoned and paranoid, but still. 

Was Dimitri really that desperate to impress Byleth? He strode over, face screwed in determination, and Felix guarded the bong jealously. “Wait your turn. I’ve had a shitty day.”

Dimitri’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?” 

Touching as his concern was, Felix answered by lighting up and taking a pull. Bubbles gurgled through the water and smoke filled his lungs, slow and steady like his breath. It had been a while but he didn’t cough, and he resisted the urge to blow smoke in Dimitri’s face. All in all, he was pretty pleased with himself. 

He held the bong out to Dimitri once he was done. “You’re up.”

Dimitri eyed it like it might bite him. The sight shouldn’t have tickled Felix as much as it did. All his life, he’d tried to keep up with his friends, but here was something he had done that Dimitri hadn’t. 

Not that smoking weed was an accomplishment, but after today, Felix would take any win he could get. 

He closed his eyes and let the drug do its thing. 

“I'll walk you through it if you still want to try,” Sylvain told Dimitri, hands skimming Felix’s hips as he stepped around him. With the briefest brush of their fingers, he took the bong from Felix. Sylvain patiently explained the process to Dimitri, then took a hit himself to demonstrate. 

“Smart,” said Claude, watching Sylvain steady the base for Dimitri. “Don’t want another accident. Hilda already broke—”

“Claude?” interjected a voice far too prim and proper for this party. “Might I steal a moment of your time? It’s urgent.”

In a tailored blouse and high-waisted slacks, Lorenz Hellmann Gloucester was dressed much too well for this party. Too well for this school. He tugged on Claude’s arm and nodded toward another room. 

“Sure thing,” said Claude, tossing him a smile before turning back to Dimitri. “Just hang on one sec.”

Dimitri was about to inhale. Felix watched, too. Everyone watched.

And because the boar didn’t do anything halfway, he finished what was left of the bowl in one giant breath. 

“Hey, you don’t need to hold it in,” Sylvain said. “Breathe.”

Dimitri didn’t. Fits of coughing shook his body. Sylvain patted his back encouragingly, but Felix was definitely going to hell for excessive schadenfreude. Watching Dimitri choke on smoke was exactly what he needed today.

And marijuana. He needed that, too. 

“Are you all right?” Eyes red but otherwise her cheery self, Mercedes rose to her feet to tend to Dimitri. Annette, Byleth, and Dedue rushed to his side, too. Now that the Dimitri Fan Club has the situation under control, Sylvain returned to Felix.

“Here.” He handed the bong back to Claude. “Better refill, looks like Lorenz needs it bad.”

“Me?” Lorenz raised one elegant hand to his chest. “I don’t smoke!”

Sylvain leaned in so close his nose brushed Felix’s ear. “He absolutely smokes,” he whispered, then pulled away to mimic sucking a cock. “But only off of Claude’s pipe, if you catch my drift.” 

The weed had to be kicking in, because Felix giggled. 

“You guys got this?” Claude passed the bong to his massive friend Raphael and his small friend Ignatz, who were sitting in front of the table (and the supply).

“You know it!” Raphael said with a grin, and soon they had everything under control.

Claude and Lorenz shared a heated glance, then wandered off hand in hand. Felix’s gaze drifted toward Sylvain. In the dim lighting, his skin seemed to glow. He always projected a cool exterior even if he was dying inside, but now, leaning against the couch, lips curled in a half-smile, it was genuine. Felix bit the inside of his cheek. Either he needed another hit or he needed to go home (alone), now. 

The sight of Raphael and Ignatz getting high together, laughing as clouds of smoke curled between their faces, pushed him over the edge. He and Sylvain both took another rip and the next thing Felix knew, they had floated to a quiet corner. 

“Feeling better?” Sylvain’s voice—low, lethargic, and rich with smoke—rumbled through Felix like distant thunder. The kind that helped him sleep. Why didn’t the idiot use  _ this _ voice to flirt? No one would be able to resist it.

Felix leaned on Sylvain and nodded. With a little shuffling he was nestled between Sylvain’s legs, knees pulled up to his elbows. This was what he had been waiting for (he couldn’t even say for how long), and he sighted contentedly. Nothing could touch him now.

Nothing but Sylvain. He let out a soft hum as he trailed his hands up and down Felix’s arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Being high didn’t compare; this was all Felix needed to relax. 

“Good,” murmured Sylvain, sliding his hands up Felix’s shoulders to his neck and kneading. What were they talking about again? And did he need to reply? Because all Felix could do right now was moan. He arched his back into Sylvain and rolled with the rhythm of the massage.

Fuck relaxation, this was ecstasy. Breaths tumbled from his mouth, soon outpacing the slow grind of their bodies. Slow didn’t last long either, and with every pass, Sylvain grew harder and hotter against the small of Felix’s back.

“Ignore that,” he uttered into Felix’s hair. He tried to reposition himself but Felix had an iron grip on his thighs.

He tilted his head to face Sylvain, close enough to share breath. “What if I don’t want to?” 

“We’re high.” 

As if Felix didn’t already know that. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It kinda does.” Sylvain’s brows knitted like his thoughts pained him, but his cock didn’t flag. Now that they had stopped moving, Felix’s own pants were uncomfortably tight, and he ached for a different kind of pressure. 

Yes, they were high, but that just made it easier for Felix to rip his heart open and wrench out the truth. “I think about this all the time.”

Cold, sobering panic seized Felix’s stomach the moment the words left his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut. Rejection wasn’t something he wanted to see on Sylvain’s face. Not today. Not ever.

Anxious seconds ticked by in his head. He’d said too much and now things would be weird with his oldest friend, the one person who accepted him for all of his flaws. Why did he keep fucking everything up today? Why couldn’t he keep his fucking mouth shut?

Sylvain didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, and Felix couldn’t blame him. He had to go.

A large, warm hand stopped him from getting up. It pressed on his chest, pulling a gasp from his lungs. Felix still couldn’t open his eyes, but he didn’t have to, because Sylvain was kissing him.

Every nerve, every cell in his body came alive, tingling, swirling inward like a vortex to where their mouths joined. Felix licked into Sylvain, traced his teeth, his tongue, and each new noise—Felix couldn’t tell who was making them now—came out prettier than the last. They were moving again; with one hand on Felix’s face, the other at his hip, Sylvain rocked him faster, harder, rubbing him through his jeans. Felix wanted him naked right then and there. In his dreams (and there had been so many), nothing came between them, but he clung to just enough rational thought to keep his clothes on. Even though it could be better, it was so, so good, too good to complain. 

Invincible—that was how Sylvain made him feel, but for all his power, Felix ached for friction in places he couldn’t reach. Places Sylvain probably could, but not here, not now, not like this. Only one thing could come close to satisfying that need tonight, and the idea possessed Felix, body and soul. 

He shoved a fearless hand down the front of Sylvain’s pants. 

A vulgar, beautiful sound passed between them when Felix seized Sylvain’s swollen cock, half-slicked just from grinding. Felix bit his lip—Sylvain was that into it? The front of his own underwear was damp, too, but he put it out of his mind to focus on drawing more moans from Sylvain’s mouth into his own, shaping them into his name. 

The bad angle was no match for Felix, and he pumped faster, letting Sylvain’s cries direct how tight he squeezed. His rhythm was too dry, too rough, but Felix didn’t hear any objections. They weren’t really kissing anymore, just bumping noses and swiping open mouths. Sylvain’s legs began to shake and Felix’s free hand scrambled to steady him. 

“Felix, I’m gonna come in my pants if you don’t—”

Spine fully concave, Felix surged up to meet Sylvain’s eyes. His destiny. “Finish in my mouth.”

Before Sylvain could react, Felix withdrew his hand and turned over in his lap. Any passersby would think he was simply lying down for a nap; maybe he would when they were done. But for all his will, his limbs didn’t listen to him. Felix was sinking to the floor, to the firm pillow of Sylvain’s thigh…

“It’s okay, Felix, it’s all right, I’m good.” Sylvain gasped a lullaby in his ear. “We’ll rest right here, Felix, okay? Right here.”

“But you didn’t…” The rest of the words never came—how could he talk with Sylvain tracing letters on his scalp? 

_ I L O  _

“I’m good,” Sylvain repeated. “That was—you have no idea how long I’ve—I just need a minute and I’ll be fine.”

Strange. Felix’s thoughts were coming out of Sylvain’s mouth. 

_ V E Y  _

“If you still want to.” Sylvain swallowed, chest still heaving, and started again. “Tomorrow, if you still feel the same way, we can—”

“Of course I will,” Felix snapped. “One night isn’t going to make a difference.”

_ O U _

Full stop.

The crowd had thinned considerably when Felix and Sylvain roused, but most of the smokers hadn’t moved. Lorenz, considerably more wrinkled and wrung out, settled in Claude’s lap on one side of the couch, while Annette and Mercedes slept slumped on each other’s shoulders at the other. Raphael’s broad chest had become Ignatz’s mattress in the tattered recliner.

Only Byleth still seemed energetic, chomping through barbecue chips on the floor.

“Where’s Dimitri?” Felix wondered aloud. 

Claude trailed a lazy hand up and down Lorenz’s abdomen, toying with a button here and there. “Went home. Bad reaction.”

Guilt twisted Felix’s stomach (especially since he’d laughed earlier), but even as the chemical high subsided, the buzz he got from Sylvain’s hand in his only got stronger. Nothing could bring him down.

Even if he didn’t have a co-op. Or a class schedule. Or a plan.

“What’s wrong, Felix?” It was hard to understand Byleth with her mouth full (and distracting—he was kind of hungry).

“Fucked up my co-op.” Saying it hurt less when Sylvain squeezed his hand. 

Byleth swallowed and looked at him thoughtfully. “Then come work for my dad’s engineering firm. He was just saying he needed an intern.”

Hope bubbled like bong water in Felix’s stomach—no, wait, that was hunger. Because he was still kind of high. His heart sank. “Too bad I won’t pass a drug screen.”

A loud, hearty laugh shot out of Byleth. No one woke up, but Felix stared at her in disbelief. She had barely cracked a smile the entire semester of physics lab.

“I don’t get it,” said Sylvain. His chin brushed the back of Felix’s hair, sparking a fresh wave of tingles.

“You have nothing to worry about. My dad’s cool,” Byleth explained. She shoveled another handful of chips into her mouth and held out the bag. “Want some?”

For how shitty the day started, this—sitting on the floor with a job prospect, thigh flush with Sylvain’s, sharing the best chips ever—wasn’t a terrible way to end it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when in doubt, weed story  
> please don't take this too seriously
> 
> title is a gorillaz song  
> and just in case, a ta is a grad student who teaches a course while completing their degree  
> also shh don’t tell anyone but i don’t smoke


	2. weed hangover (epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Sylvain, the morning after. Or, the gratuitously fluffy (and slightly spicy) epilogue.

Warm. That was Felix's bed (and Felix's arms) in a nutshell. Warm and safe.

Too many times Sylvain had found himself putting the pieces back together in strange beds the morning after, but he knew exactly how he’d gotten here. He’d kissed Felix goodnight and fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep with a smile on his face and Felix on his chest.

But the warmth went beyond snuggling. Only Felix would use flannel sheets before winter. They were red and black plaid—kind of a lumberjack pattern. Sylvain was reminded of a few shirts he owned, and he wondered if that was intentional.

Maybe he was just a cocky bastard, but he hoped Felix imagined him as he drifted off to sleep.

Even before last night, before Felix had shoved his hand into Sylvain’s pants and given him a taste of paradise, Sylvain had endured countless nights with Felix in his head. Lackluster hookups got better when Sylvain dug into the reserves of his imagination, stocked full of friendship-dashing fantasies like Felix pinning him to a wall and kissing him until they whipped their dicks out, Felix pinning him to a bathroom stall and kissing him until they whipped their dicks out, Felix pinning him to a gym bench and kissing him until they… Sylvain just really needed Felix to pin him to something.

But now, with Felix molded to his back, the pinning and everything that came after in Sylvain’s head could wait. Basking in reality was so much better.

The only downside to being the little spoon was that Sylvain couldn’t see Felix, couldn’t watch him sleep or stroke his hair. And there was so much of it—Felix was entirely hair. It was easy to forget when it was tied up in a bun, but last night, loose and unruly, it had covered Sylavin’s chest like a blanket. Only Felix’s nose and lips had breached its confines, and Sylvain wondered if the way it obscured Felix’s eyes was deliberate. Like a built-in sleep mask. Maybe Sylvain needed to grow his own out and get in on that.

Felix snorted in his sleep as if to say  _ don’t you fucking dare. _

But Sylvain wasn’t mad about ending up in Felix's arms, far from it. He didn’t remember it happening last night, almost like they had simply returned to their natural state: Felix, smaller but stronger, holding tight to his claim. And oh, how badly Sylvain had wanted to be claimed, to be his. Being the little spoon was fantastic. 

Lips moved against the back of his neck in accidental kisses; Felix was stirring. Sylvain shifted to let him adjust, but he didn’t budge. 

“Can’t feel my arm,” Felix murmured into Sylvain’s neck. Still half-asleep, his voice was scratchy and beautiful. “You’re too heavy.” 

“I’m all muscle.” Sylvain rolled over and watched for a moment as his sleepy Felix attempted to persuade his dead arm to move, then said, “Good morning.”

Felix looked up into his eyes and blinked into a softer expression, like he only just realized Sylvain was real. “Good morning.” The words came out so gentle and warm, Sylvain almost didn’t recognize his voice, but he couldn’t wait to get used to it. 

As expected, Felix’s hair was everywhere, and his gray shirt bore wrinkles from being wedged between them all night. Beneath his boxers, his morning wood rivaled Sylvain’s (although Sylvain had been awake too long to qualify as anything but just plain hard), and he still had socks on his feet, now kicked free of the covers.

Sylvain wanted this memory burned into his brain forever, tattooed on his chest, framed on the wall, the last thing he saw before he died. His first morning with Felix. Perfection. 

“C’mere,” Felix beckoned. He could move his fingers now. “I’m cold.”

Sylvain didn’t need to be told twice. Morning breath and wood be damned, he pulled Felix into his arms and held him. All that hair tickled his bare chest and a jolt shot up his spine when their cocks brushed. Canting his hips earned him an honest to goodness moan from Felix, and Sylvain wondered if enough friction might pop him right out of those boxers. How quickly his thoughts went back to whipping their dicks out—and Felix wasn’t even pinning him.

Back and forth they moved for a few blissful minutes until Felix said the words Sylvain did not want to hear. “When’s your first class?”

“Who cares?” Sylvain replied. He was nearly free of his own underwear now, mere millimeters away from the hot drag of flesh on flesh, and—

“No, no.” Felix pulled away and Sylvain stopped thrusting. “I’m not letting both of us fuck this semester up.”

It took everything in Sylvain not to pout. Maybe Felix just wasn’t ready to take things further, and that was just fine. 

“Don’t you have Electromagnetics with Professor Casagranda at eight?” Felix asked, still catching his breath. “Thought you were on the same track as Leonie.”

Sylvain tried not to look at Felix’s disheveled hair, or how his shirt had ridden up to reveal a tiny trail of hair, or how the front of his boxers was hanging wide open. He stared at the flannel sheets instead. “Nope, took that last semester.” 

“Oh, right.” A haze washed over Felix’s face, one that Sylvain recognized (yes, he snuck a peek) as desire. “I forgot you tested out of everything freshman year.”

“Just gen chem and calculus,” Sylvain said, only bragging a little bit. 

The squeak of a mattress coil was Sylvain’s only warning before Felix pounced. Finally, Sylvain was pinned, wrists pressed to the bed and hips braced beneath Felix’s. Electricity sparked between them, like a circuit begging to be closed—so much better than his dreams.

“When’s your first class?” Felix’s low rumble went straight to Sylvain’s gut and pushed lower. 

Sylvain bit his lip and blinked up at Felix innocently. “Eleven.” 

In a split second, Felix was kissing him, although maybe  _ kissing _ was too nice a word for this—open mouths, tongues swiping in exploration, and biting, because of course Felix was a biter. They picked up right where they left off, grinding into each other like it was do or die. Sylvain seized the waistband of Felix’s shorts, salivating at the mere thought of touching him.

“Wait!” Felix said it into Sylvain’s mouth and Sylvain froze. If Felix wanted to stop, they’d stop (and thankfully, Sylvain wasn’t quite to the point of making a mess of his own shorts and Felix’s sheets). “Want to suck you off.”

His low voice curled into Sylvain’s gut, sinking in like fangs, claiming him. Forever, Sylvain was his, as long as Felix would have him.

“Okay.” Sylvain was all breath, shaky not from nerves but from gravity. This was Felix, the only person he truly loved, the only person who loved him unconditionally. The least he could offer was a clean cock, and beneath all the lust, Sylvain did kind of have to pee. “Can I use your bathroom like this?” 

“Lin won’t be awake for hours,” Felix said. His roommate was a very heavy sleeper. “Besides,” Felix added with a smirk, “he still hasn’t recovered from the time he walked in on me and Caspar.”

Sylvain couldn’t blame Linhardt. The thought of Felix and Caspar, two little spitfires, fucking in an explosion of energy like some sort of stellar collision—it was pretty hot. But right now, Sylvain didn’t want to imagine Felix fucking anyone but him (and from the longing looks he’d witnessed, he suspected Linhardt had similar designs on Caspar). 

He had to think about Electromagnetics to do it, but eventually, Sylvain calmed himself down enough to use the bathroom. He cleaned up and stole some of Felix’s mouthwash before heading back to Felix’s room, no sign of Linhardt. 

Felix was already waiting at the door for his turn, and Sylvain made himself comfortable on the bed. Thank goodness for Felix’s bad temper and Claude’s good weed for finally giving them the push they needed to give in. There’d be kinks (and not just the good kind) as they blurred friends with lovers, and maybe it wouldn’t always feel as simple as it did this morning, but they’d been through tougher stuff. 

A creak at the door interrupted Sylvain’s thoughts, and he looked up into Felix’s eyes, fresher now that he’d fixed his hair and (from the looks of his shirt) splashed some water on his face. He was impossibly beautiful, and Sylvain’s heart thudded hard in his chest. Blushing, Felix shut the door behind him. 

“Do you mind if I…” Felix started to pull off his wet shirt, and Sylvain shook his head rapidly. He had never minded anything less in his life. 

Now shirtless, Felix settled back on the bed, in Sylvain’s arms, against his chest. This time, they kissed,  _ really kissed,  _ mintier and far less desperate. Like it was something they did all the time. They would, Sylvain realized with a blooming warmth, they  _ would _ kiss all the time, to the point of annoying all their friends. They didn’t have a choice, because this was too good to pass up. 

Soon, underwear lost to the sheets and hands and mouths lost to newly mappable skin, they delighted each other in mirrored movements (because Sylvain couldn't let Felix have all the fun). The taste of Felix’s skin, the muffled sounds he made as he found his release in Sylvain’s mouth, the way he swallowed, his grip on Sylvain’s legs...Sylvain committed it all to memory, even though he didn’t need to. This wouldn’t be their last time.

They clung to each other in the afterglow, Felix’s breath kissing his inner thighs, Sylvain pressing his cheek to Felix’s.

“I love you, too, you know.” Orgasms did lovely things to Felix’s voice, though Sylvain couldn’t imagine those words sounding anything but lovely on his lips. “Not just as a friend.”

“Like a boyfriend?” Sylvain asked against his skin. It must have tickled, because Felix twitched and suppressed a giggle. 

When Sylvain looked up at him, he was hiding behind his arm. “I mean, if that’s what you want.”

Sylvain couldn’t take it any longer; he scrambled to the head of the bed to be next to Felix and kissed his lips. “We’re friends forever, you know. Being boyfriends doesn’t change that.”

“It changes some things.” Felix peeked out from under his arm. “Friends don’t do what we just did.”

“Depends what kind of friends,” Sylvain said with a wink. And before Felix could lose his confidence, Sylvain grabbed his hands. “But that’s not all I want from you. I want to keep doing all the stuff we did before”—working out, studying, watching videos online, day-drinking, getting on each other’s nerves and making up a second later—“ _and_ make you scream my name.” 

Felix narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t scream your name.”

“Only because you had my dick in your mouth.” He knew that smirk would only make Felix redder. 

“Look who’s talking!” Felix shot back. “Hands only next time. You and me. We’ll see who screams first.”

Sylvain pecked his lips. “You’re on.” 

But the fire died down and they lazed away an hour in Felix’s bed, just kissing and touching each other with no clear goal in mind, until Sylvain really did have to go get ready for class. 

“Let's get lunch after,” said Sylvain, pulling Felix (now dressed) to him for another kiss. “Oh shit, we never had breakfast.”

Felix smirked. “I mean, we kind of did.”

“Felix!” Sylvain gaped at him, still smiling. “I had no idea you were so nasty!”

“Guess you rubbed off on me,” said Felix. One look at Sylvain’s face and he added, “Don’t say it.” 

Even though he and Felix had definitely rubbed off on each other (so to speak), he grinned and said, “Not a word.” 

He followed Felix out of his room and straight into someone in the hallway. It was Caspar, though Sylvain had never seen this much of him; he was only wearing a towel. 

“Caspar?” Felix looked puzzled, too. “What are you doing?” 

“Oh!” Caspar laughed even louder than normal. “Hey, guys! I was just, er, on my way back to—”

“Cas?” Linhardt popped out of his room, holding his bedsheet to his neck. He was definitely naked underneath. “What’s taking so long?”

There was no stopping the laughter that bubbled out of Sylvain. He and Felix weren’t the only ones getting lucky today.

“Funny story,” said Caspar, clutching the towel around his waist. “We got  _ super  _ stoned last night and, you know, talked about stuff, and…”

Linhardt picked up where Caspar trailed off. “And now we’re going to do stuff, so weren’t you two just leaving?”

“Yep.” Felix pushed Sylvain toward the door. They put on their shoes in record time, but once they got outside, Felix grabbed Sylvain’s hand and slowed down. 

Stomach fluttering, Sylvain clutched his hand tight. “Think he’s still mad about you and Caspar?”

“Nah,” said Felix. “He knows that was just because we were bored. Besides, Caspar flat out told me he had to picture Lin to get off.”

Sylvain snickered. “What about you? Did you picture anyone when you were getting your rocks off? Anyone at all?” 

A delightful blush spread across Felix’s cheeks—another mental image for his collection. Being boyfriends was going to be amazing.

“Not  _ every _ time,” Felix muttered, looking away. 

“No need to be embarrassed!” He yanked Felix closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I thought about you while I was having sex. And jerking off.”

“Gross,” said Felix, absolutely insincere. “I can just imagine your dirty fantasies.” 

“Mm, too bad we don’t have time to act them out before my class.” 

Felix sighed, but he didn't move from his place under Sylvain’s arm. “Yeah, I guess I get to kill some time on campus now. Maybe I’ll go to the gym.” 

A familiar image flashed through Sylvain’s mind—Felix pinning him to the gym bench and kissing him until they whipped their dicks out—and Sylvain stopped him on the sidewalk.

“Want to hear about one of those fantasies right now?” He waggled his eyebrows and, for the first time Sylvain could remember, Felix didn’t even groan. 

Oh yes, Sylvain could definitely get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little subtle 69 to start your april  
> hope you enjoyed this completely unnecessary epilogue!  
> also, fun fact: this chapter started when i wrote down "lumberjack plaid" before bed one night and then it took me several days to remember where i was going with that
> 
> also just in case anyone was wondering, felix is supposed to have a full time internship this semester in lieu of classes in this story. some engineering programs emphasize work experience this way.
> 
> ahem. anyway, sylvain and felix are in love, and thanks so much for reading!


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